Our Lives Together
by Katalius123
Summary: Matthew and Mary are engaged and ready to embrace their future as the next Earl and Countess of Grantham. Just my imaginings of how that life might go.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: Matthew and Mary come in from the cold, newly engaged.

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><p>Matthew spun Mary round in his arms, clinging to each other in utter glee at the thought that finally, they were allowed to be like this with each other. She thought back to all the other times she wished she could have embraced him as she was now. Before he had left for the war, when he had appeared at the concert after having gone missing, when he learned he could walk again. If only she had been able to hold him, kiss him, laugh with him, cry with him as she was now. But none of it mattered anymore. He was hers. She was his. The past was past.<p>

As they came to a halt, she pulled her face from his shoulder to look at him, confirming that the tears in her eyes were in his as well. They shared a smile between them that they had clearly been holding back for years, waiting for this moment of such pure happiness. Without putting her down, or releasing even an inch of his tight hold of her waist, they kissed. As they did, Matthew slowly set Mary back down to the snowy ground. As her feet connected with the earth, they parted.

"We should probably move back inside," Matthew said, his voice quiet and still full of love.

"What, already?" Mary asked in a tone that even she was surprised to hear from herself. Matthew laughed a little at her giddiness and impatience. "I only mean that…" but what did she mean? She let the thought die to replace it with its truth: "I'm so perfectly happy."

Matthew caressed her cheek, moving an odd strand of hair behind her ear.

"Me too." he said. Mary leaned up and gave him a sweet but lingering kiss. She could hardly contain herself. The prospect of this event had only minutes ago felt an impossibility. Now it was a reality. She had waited so many years to correct her mistake of turning him down. And now she had. All the fantasies she had had of a future with Matthew, growing old together, having children together, they no longer had to be cast aside as fancy.

"I love you so much, you know." Mary surprised both herself and Matthew at being the first one to say it aloud, but it had been a night for surprises anyway. Besides, it was a declaration so obvious that to waste one more second without saying it after years of wanting to seemed ridiculous.

Matthew's smile widened, his large blue eyes flooding with fresh tears of joy and comfort.

"I love you," he answered, not as a response, but as if he were the one to say the words first. Mary brought a gloved hand to his cheek and gently caressed it. He reached up and held it to his face before taking it and kissing her palm gently.

Out of the corners of their eyes, the pair noticed candles going out throughout the front hall of the house. The ball was winding down, everyone was off to bed. Night was creeping through the house.

Matthew looked down at his future bride.

"Darling, you're shivering." He said in vague alarm, immediately slipping off his jacket to place around her shoulders.

"Am I? I hardly noticed." Mary replied with a small laugh. She was still so winded at the idea of what had just happened, what was happening.

Matthew led her back into the house, where there was no longer a soul to be seen in the now vacant front hall. The two parted and stepped away in either direction of the room, somehow feeling unsure of expressing intimacy whilst under the roof of her family.

"Everyone must've gone to bed," Mary observed. She turned back to Matthew, unsure if he would take this invitation offered by their solitude, unsure if it even was an invitation.

"Sounds like the right idea. Perhaps we should say goodnight." Matthew said, though with great reluctance. His propriety was clearly in direct conflict with his desires, both noble and otherwise.

"I suppose," Mary began, not wanting to seem too eager, "if you think so. It is getting rather late."

Matthew seemed crestfallen at her agreement. Even now they were no experts at taking the initiative.

"Quite right. Well…I'll be off home then…" he began, regaining his composure. He moved to Mary to retrieve his jacket from her.

"I'll call the car round for you."

"Oh no, please. It's far too late, and after the servants just had their ball? Hardly holiday cheer to ask them to resume duties now."

"But you can't possibly walk back to the village in this snow, you'll catch cold. Or worse, even."

Matthew laughed. "So what do you suggest we do, then?" He moved closer to her.

"I suppose…I suppose you could stay here. It'd be less trouble to get a room ready than it would be to call the chauffeur if that's what you're worried about." She said, smiling at the opportunity to tease him, which he gladly accepted.

"If that's what you want." Matthew said with a coy smile, his voice low and steady.

"I think it's what's best," Mary's face softened, "I couldn't have you ill on our first official day of engagement. I won't face Papa alone while you're holed up in bed with a cold."

Mary moved to the edge of the room and pulled the chord to ring for a staff member. Matthew approached her slowly.

"Heavens. We couldn't have that, could we?" Matthew said with a snarky grin that Mary greatly appreciated. He closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Very well. I'll stay." He whispered.

"There's no need to be quite so smug." She said teasingly.

"On the contrary," he kissed her lightly on the lips, "I've gotten Lady Mary Crawley to agree to marry me, haven't I? So in fact I think I am quite entitled to some measure of smugness."

"Touché." She whispered before kissing him, this time deeper, with a clear point to be made. Matthew could sense the kiss becoming more and more intense, and made the sensible decision to stop it before it went past the point of return.

"I think it's time I headed off to my quarters, you to yours." Matthew said, pulling away slightly.

"Indeed. There's plenty of time for everything." Mary moved away, remembering herself and doing her best to restore the cool demeanor her status required of her, but still, she could not completely wipe the school-girl grin off her face.

At that moment, Carson appeared. He was halfway into his pajamas, but retained the dignity he worked so hard to impose. Mary smiled at the sight of him, but wondered if it was too early to tell him. It was important to her that he be one of the first to find out.

Carson took in the situation: Mary and Matthew alone in the hall grinning like absolute idiots.

"You rang, Lady Mary?"

"Yes, Carson, could you trouble someone to fix a room for Mr. Crawley? It's far too late to call a car and I insist he not walk home in this weather. Surely there's a bedroom for him?"

"Of course, m'lady." Carson replied with a knowing smile. He was steadily beginning to put some pieces together. Perhaps he hadn't figured yet that they were engaged, but there was definitely something different. He hadn't seen Mary smile like this in…well, probably her whole life. At least, certainly not any moment in the company of Richard Carlisle.

"M'lady, if I may say so, none of the staff is quite in their right mind at the moment, so if Mr. Crawley wouldn't object, I would be happy to assist him myself." Carson would rather perform duties beneath him than risk any embarrassment for the house with an inebriated valet.

"That would be splendid, I'm sure." Mary answered, looking to Matthew to confirm.

"It would be an honor, Mr. Carson." Matthew said with kindness. Carson bowed his head slightly in thanks. He turned his head up and noticed that the two young people could hardly keep their eyes off of each other. He knew the look well. This was his cue to let them have a moment alone.

"Very good, my lady. I shall be upstairs preparing a room if you need anything more."

Carson disappeared. Matthew walked Mary over to the staircase that led to her section of the house. She began to ascend, but stopped and turned to him.

"Tomorrow we'll tell everyone. First thing. They'll think it's strange enough that you've spent the night."

"I don't think I could wait longer than that anyway. I'm bursting to shout as we speak."

She smiled. "So am I." She took a few slow steps down the stairs toward him for one final kiss goodnight.

"Tonight, if I'm able to sleep at all…it will be the first good sleep I've had in many years," she said.

"Me too. Just imagine what it will be like when we can wake beside each other."

With that, he removed the glove from her left hand and kissed the back of her palm before watching as she slowly made her way up the stairs, every step or so stealing a glance back at him. They were still beaming.

* * *

><p>As Mary made her way hurriedly down the corridor to her room, she passed Anna coming out of Lady Edith's bedroom.<p>

"Lady Mary are you turning in for the evening?" she asked.

"Anna! Exactly who I was looking for. And yes, I am."

"I was just on my way to check if you were upstairs yet or not."

Anna went to open the door to Mary's room, but she beat her to it. She pulled Anna into the room and slammed the door shut in excitement.

"Is everything all right, m'lady?" Anna said, winded and frankly a little worried. Then she noticed the enormous grin on Mary's face.

"I can't hold it in anymore. I'm bursting to tell someone." Mary said, pacing around the room.

"What is it?" Anna said, eager and a little flustered.

"Matthew and I…" she began but hardly knew how to put it into words, "We're engaged!"

Anna yelped with joy and surprise, a nice feeling when her own troubles were weighing so heavily on her. It was nice to hear good news from someone. The two young women embraced like young girls, not as mistress and servant but as the very close friends that they were.

"Oh, m'lady! Congratulations!"

Mary sat on her bed where Anna joined her, looking for the story.

"So…what happened?" she asked. Mary laughed and began to regale Anna with the events of the last half hour.

"Oh, Mary. I'm so happy for you," Anna said, hardly noticing the lapse in formality with the way she addressed her friend, taking her hand and squeezing it in encouragement.

"Well, then…I suppose neither of us will be going to America after all." Mary said. After a moment, she and Anna burst into inexplicable laughter, relishing the feeling of something to smile about after a holiday season of such melancholy.

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><p>Matthew handed Mr. Carson his shirt as he finished dressing for bed in the mirror. The young man had been unusually silent, Carson noticed. However, he kept a quiet smile, as if he were lost in his own thoughts. Out of his own curiosity (and a certain amount of his loyalty to Mary) Carson felt it appropriate to investigate.<p>

"I see you and Lady Mary are on rather pleasanter terms," Carson prodded.

"Yes, I dare say we are." Matthew said with that same secret, knowing smile.

Carson felt a kind of paternal instinct toward Mary, and he knew how often this man had broken her heart. He was in no mood to play coy games with the gentleman.

"Mr. Crawley, would you allow me to speak frankly with you?"

Matthew was a bit struck by the words, but he was too happy to really consider them.

"Certainly, Mr. Carson."

"Lady Mary is very dear to me. With no disrespect to his Lordship, I consider her to be a rather daughter-like figure in my life. Therefore, it is of great importance to me that she be made happy…"

Carson trailed off a bit as he noticed Matthew beginning to laugh.

"Mr. Crawley, if I may say, the matter I speak of is not intended to be taken lightly."

"No, no of course not," Matthew replied, suppressing his laughs. "It's only…Mary will have my head if she isn't the one to tell you."

"If there is something you feel I should be privy to, I should hope you would feel comfortable enough to say so." This was Carson's best effort at remaining dignified without giving away his utter suspense.

"Well, Carson…You see…the fact of the matter is…" a smile spread across his face in quiet relief that he could finally say it aloud to someone, "Lady Mary and I are engaged to be married."

Carson's face went blank. It was instantly replaced by a jolly grin.

"Congratulations, dear fellow!" he said, holding out his hand which Matthew shook. "How wonderful indeed."

"Thank you, Carson. But I must ask that you try to act surprised tomorrow, for Mary's sake…and mine, I suppose. I don't want her to be cross with me quite so soon."

"Understood, Mr. Crawley. Perfectly understood."

By now, Matthew was in his night clothes and prepare for bed. Carson realized this and resumed his post.

"Will you be requiring anything else this evening, Mr. Crawley?"

"No, thank you, Carson. I think I'm quite fixed."

"Very good, sir. Have a pleasant sleep."

Matthew nodded in thanks. Carson gathered the discarded clothes and moved toward the door, but stopped himself just before leaving. He turned back to Matthew, who stopped to acknowledge him.

"Congratulations again, sir. We've all been rooting for it. All these years." Carson smiled politely. Matthew reciprocated.

"Thank you, Carson."

With that, the butler disappeared out the door. Matthew turned down his covers and crawled into bed. Across the house, Mary was doing the same having said goodnight to Anna. As they laid their heads on their pillows, they turned to look beside them, imagining the other laying there. Within moments, Matthew and Mary fell asleep to dream of each other and the future that lay before them. It seemed everything had finally fallen into its proper place. Life could begin now.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who has taken an interest in this fic :) and a happy belated holidays to you all!

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><p>Chapter 2: Matthew and Mary spread their good news.<p>

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><p>The following morning, Mary awoke unreasonably early. She had hardly slept through the night for excitement, and resolved to wake at first light to catch Carson and ask that he bring everyone together in the library before going through to breakfast. She hoped Matthew wouldn't mind, but she couldn't fathom the thought of sitting through an entire meal with her family without letting the news slip.<p>

The servants had barely begun their morning duties. Mrs. Hughes was doling out instructions while Mrs. Pattmore and Daisy were already bickering over the preparations for the day's meals.

It of course came as a complete shock to them when suddenly in the doorway appeared Lady Mary Crawley, in her nightgown and dressing robe. The bustling staff froze completely, even Anna was unsure what to do in the situation.

"Why, Lady Mary, is everything all right?" Mrs. Hughes asked, ignoring decorum in her own surprise.

"Quite all right, Mrs. Hughes. I'm just looking for Mr. Carson, is he nearby?" she asked, her tone calm and collected. It only made the staff more curious.

"Mr. Carson? I believe he's in his office, m'lady. If you could follow me I'll direct you in."

"Excellent." Mary smiled contentedly and followed Mrs. Hughes down a small corridor. The servants watched in stunned silence.

"Well that's not something you see every day," Mrs. Pattmore said.

"What do you s'pose it's about?" Daisy asked.

Anna took this as her cue to deflect speculation.

"Who knows, Daisy, but finding out isn't going to clean the fireplaces any quicker. Now let's get a move on," she said, stern but still the warmest of any of the head servants. Daisy nodded and fell in line, following Anna up the stairs to the main floor. As she ascended, Anna smiled to herself, feeling a small sense of excitement at the fact that as far as she was aware, she was the only person in the house that knew of Mary and Matthew's secret.

"Lady Mary to see you, Mr. Carson," Mrs. Hughes said, entering his office. Carson stood in both surprise and obligation as Mary peaked her head into the room.

"I was hoping I could have a word with you before breakfast," she began.

"Certainly, m'lady, please, have a seat. Thank you, Mrs. Hughes."

Mary smiled at Mrs. Hughes as she exited the office, still in a bit of a daze at the bizarre event of the morning.

"How can I help you?" Carson asked. He noticed Mary did not take the seat he had offered her, preferring to stand. She seemed a bit jumpy. It took everything in Carson not to betray a smile at his understanding of her excitement.

"I wondered if you could do me a favor."

"Almost certainly, m'lady."

"When the family all gathers for breakfast, I wonder if you could usher them all in to the library before we sit down to table. You see…there is a matter of rather great urgency that I must discuss with my family and I suspect it will not be able to wait until after breakfast."

"I understand perfectly, Lady Mary. I will alert the ladies' staff as well to inform your aunt, sister and mother."

"Oh and if you wouldn't mind sending someone round for Granny and Mrs. Crawley after breakfast, I should also like to inform them as soon as possible."

"Very good, m'lady. Will that be all?"

"Well…I suppose so, yes. Thank you…" she began, but was a bit perturbed at his formality.

"Something the matter, m'lady?"

"No, it's just…aren't you wondering what I'm calling them together for? Surely you find this out of the ordinary."

Carson could feel himself on the verge of sweats. He may have at one time been a professional of the stage, but he feared his skills would not be enough to fool her.

"Well certainly, but of course it isn't my place to pry into such matters."

"Carson…I think we've known each other long enough for you to know I don't believe that. I've confessed my secrets to you, I've cried to you like an infant. I think you are entitled to pry when it comes to my circumstances."

"Fair enough, Lady Mary…" Carson gulped in nervousness. Mary noticed. He only grew more uncomfortable as her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she took a step toward his desk.

"Do you…know something?" Suddenly she became keenly aware of the reminder that Carson had been alone in a room with Matthew last night.

"On what score?"

"Carson…have you spoken to Matthew?"

Finally, Carson had to give up.

"Please don't be cross with him, it was my own fault. I admit I may have pulled the information out of him. I left him with very little choice but to confess and I now own up to this fault, it was highly unprofessional of me. Do forgive me and please spare Mr. Crawley any blame…"

"So you mean you suspected it?" Mary asked, ignoring his pleas for forgiveness because of course he didn't need any. Carson ceased fretting and his nervousness was replaced by a warm and knowing smile, the kind that made her feel so at ease confiding in him. He stepped around the desk so he was standing beside it.

"My dear, I have known you since you were a very small girl. And I have never once seen you smile as you did last night. Surely you'll forgive me the understanding that it could only have meant one thing."

Mary laughed in spite of herself, a small blush of embarrassment in her cheeks. She felt very much like that small girl in this moment.

"Oh, Carson!" she gasped, and flung her arms around the gentleman in a great hug, relieved to have yet another person to express her joy to. He was taken aback at first but joined her in contented laughter, offering a warm, almost fatherly embrace. One of them had to retain some sense of propriety. But he couldn't deny his happiness for her and she knew it.

"As long as you promise that he makes you happy." Carson said as they separated.

"He does." There was no doubt or hesitation whatsoever in Mary's voice. Only assurance and pride in the fact. At that moment, Carson looked up at the clock.

"Not to be the one giving orders, Lady Mary, but if I might suggest you seek out Anna, the day is soon to begin, no doubt. If my estimations are correct she should be close to your bedroom by now. Perhaps you should catch her…after all you've got a busy morning ahead." He said with a smile.

"Thank you, Carson. And if you are attending to Mr. Crawley this morning, please do inform him of the plan." She headed for the door, but stopped as she remembered one last important thing, "And if you could, I would like you to be present when we make the announcement as well…for moral support."

"It would be my sincere pleasure, my dear girl."

Mary nodded to him in satisfaction and disappeared from the office.

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><p>Elsewhere in the house, Matthew was just waking up. As his eyes opened, a rush of memory at the previous night's events came over him, filling him with energy. Almost like a child on Christmas morning, he pulled the covers from him and sat up from the bed. In one fluid motion, he strode to the edge of the room and rang for a servant.<p>

Downstairs, Mrs. Hughes' ears perked to the sound of the bell, looking to the wall to see that it had come from a guest bedroom. Curious, she was glad to see Mr. Carson walk past her right at that moment, no doubt on his way to attend to whoever the mysterious guest was.

"Mr. Carson, who is it that's ringing? I wasn't aware we had a guest last night."

"That would be Mr. Matthew. He stayed late last night and Lady Mary felt it unwise that he walk home in the cold."

"Lady Mary did? Heavens. What is that girl up to these days. One day she's ready to walk down the aisle with Sir Richard, the next she's shoving him out the door and ordering rooms for Matthew Crawley, not to mention wandering downstairs in her night clothes at the crack of dawn. I know we've never seen eye to eye on her, but you must admit she's nothing if not fickle."

This was her way of trying to work him up into telling her what he and Mary had discussed in his office.

"Lady Mary Crawley has had to face difficult decisions as of late. It is not our place to judge the worth or logic of such decisions."

"I suppose so. It's just all a bit strange to me. I don't think I'll ever quite understand the two of them. I still say she's a fool for rejecting him those years ago."

She knew this would strike a nerve with Carson. Judging by the look on his face, she was correct.

"I'll thank you not to speak ill of her in that regard, Mrs. Hughes. You should know better than to speculate on matters in which you are decidedly under-informed."

Mrs. Hughes feigned some offense at this.

"Well then perhaps you should enlighten me. It seems whatever you two discussed this morning has made you quite unsettled."

Carson opened his mouth to retort, but after a few moments of thought, he stepped into an isolated corner of the hall and beckoned Mrs. Hughes to follow him.

"What I am about to say is not to leave our confidence until after breakfast, understood?"

Mrs. Hughes nodded eagerly in agreement.

"Last night…Lady Mary and Mr. Matthew…became engaged."

Despite all of her feelings toward Mary, most of which were negative, Mrs. Hughes couldn't help but gasp and smile. News of any engagement could never be bad, even if it concerned a woman she felt didn't deserve all of the support she had. As she thought about it, Mrs. Hughes realized that this was indeed the first choice Mary had ever made that she approved of entirely.

"Well…we've waited long enough for that, haven't we?" She said decidedly.

* * *

><p>Anna was just finishing helping Mary put on her jewelry for the day. The two women had spoken giddily of what the morning would promise, lots of good news to be delivered throughout the house. Mary could hardly wait, and Anna was glad to be the one at her side in what was clearly the happiest moment of her life.<p>

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Anna and Mary looked to each other, curious. Anna moved to the door and opened it just enough so that whoever it was could not see all the way inside.

"Good morning, Anna," said Matthew Crawley, standing in the doorway, his hair neat but informal, dressed in a tweed suit. Anna entertained the funny thought that one day she would probably be serving this man as the Earl of Grantham.

"Good morning, Mr. Crawley," she replied. Mary's ears perked up.

"I wondered if Lady Mary is ready? And if so would she care to accompany me downstairs?"

Anna looked back at Mary, who nodded for her to open the door. She did, inviting Matthew to step in. She watched in delight as the pair took each other in, clearly fighting the urge to rush to one another in an embrace. Anna marveled at their ability to honor decorum even now.

"Good morning, Mary," he said pleasantly, folding his hands behind his back.

"Good morning," she replied, sporting the same grin she had had when he proposed. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, Matthew glancing back and forth between Anna and Mary.

"Oh, it's all right, Matthew. She knows." Mary said. He sighed in relief and immediately relaxed himself. He strode slowly toward Mary and gave her a small, sweet kiss on the lips. Anna politely looked away.

"Good morning." Matthew said low, their faces hardly an inch apart. Mary smiled in response. He stepped away, but took her hands in his.

"Carson has informed me of the schedule for the morning."

"I hope it's all right. I just couldn't see myself being able to keep silent through breakfast, and I wanted the whole family gathered at once."

"Quite all right. I would have woken the whole house last night if I could've." Matthew said, his face glowing with warmth and love. Mary gave him another small kiss. Suddenly, she remembered Anna standing beside them. They separated and Matthew moved toward the door.

"Shall we, my darling?" he said, holding out his hand to her. Mary chuckled and took it, glancing back at Anna who smiled at her encouragingly before they disappeared through the door.

Once in the corridor, Matthew looked left and right, checking that no one was nearby. When he decided all was clear, he pulled Mary to him for a deep, long kiss. She was utterly taken aback by it, but of course responded in kind. When they parted, she could hardly breathe.

"What was that for?" she gasped. He shrugged, a satisfied look on his face.

"Because I can."

With that, he held out his arm for her to take, which she did, and the pair seemed to float down the corridor toward the stairs.

* * *

><p>Naturally, they found themselves the first to arrive in the library. They stood just outside it and shared one more kiss, this time for confidence and encouragement.<p>

"Ready?" he asked.

"Aboslutely," she replied, "But why don't you wait out here for now. Enter with the family so we don't give the whole game away."

Matthew laughed a little. This was a side of Mary he had never seen before. She had never been quite so mischievous, but he liked it. The image of their faces upon being surprised by the news was too sweet to ignore. Clearly Mary felt the same.

"You're a little minx, aren't you?" he said playfully. She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. They parted toward their separate ways, she into the library, he to the outer hall to await the arrival of her family.

In no time, Carson was ushering Lord and Lady Grantham down the stairs, followed closely by Edith and Aunt Rosamund. Robert was clearly very unsettled by this odd turn of events and was hounding Carson for more information.

"Is she all right? Do you know what's the matter, Carson?"

"I do not, your Lordship, I couldn't say."

Matthew smiled at Carson's efforts. He knew how difficult this must be for him.

"Darling, there's no need to assume the worst." Cora cooed.

"If this has anything to do with Richard Carlisle I shall have his head, I tell you." Robert fumed. His wife simply laughed at him. Edith seemed a bit underwhelmed by the whole thing, probably most upset that her sister was delaying her from starting her day properly. She was hoping to see Sir Antony later that morning.

Finally, Lord Grantham noticed Matthew standing silently outside the library.

"Matthew? What on earth are you doing here? Tell me she hasn't called you all the way from Crawley house so early."

He chuckled. "No, no, certainly not. I stayed here last night. By the time I was ready to go home it was quite late and snowing. We thought it best that I spend the night here."

" 'We?' " Robert said curiously. Matthew looked to Carson quickly in panic. He knew if he named Mary it might be too much of a clue.

"Carson and I. You see, I contemplated sending round for a car but he dissuaded me, thankfully."

"Quite right," Robert decided. "Well, apparently Mary has some grand announcement to make that couldn't wait until after breakfast. To be honest I'm a bit worried. Do you have any idea what it could be?"

"Unfortunately not, m'Lord, but I imagine it must be urgent if she's called us all together."

"That's what's got me worried." Robert groaned.

"Well the longer we stand out here talking about it the more our imaginations will run away with us." Cora said, gesturing them toward the door. Carson moved ahead and opened it, entering ahead of the family.

Mary turned at the sound of the doors opening.

"Your family is here to see you, Lady Mary, may I escort them in?"

"Please do, Carson."

He nodded and opened the double doors wide. The four of them entered, Robert and Cora the quickest. Matthew sauntered in and took his place at the back of the room, sharing a secret look with Mary.

Robert rushed toward her. "Mary is everything all right? Are you ill? Are you pregnant?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Robert," Cora scolded. Mary only laughed.

"Goodness no, Papa! Please just…have a seat, everyone."

Robert looked to his wife and she nodded, taking his hand and escorting him to a sofa to sit beside her. Edith and Aunt Rosamund took their places in armchairs, pondering why Matthew was still standing at the back of the room, keeping oddly to himself.

"Forgive me for calling you all so early. I promise this will be brief."

"Oh for God's sake Mary, just tell us the meaning of this." Robert simply could not contain himself.

"All right, then…" but suddenly she hardly knew how to begin. "Mama, Papa, dear Edith," her sister did a double-take at the fond address, "I have something very important…and very wonderful to tell you all…" she looked up at Matthew, almost in tears of joy. "Actually," she restated, "WE have something to tell you."

At this, Matthew took his cue to join his fiancée. Robert and Cora followed them with their eyes as the pair met together at the front of the room. They recognized the looks on the young pair's faces and slowly began putting it together.

Matthew took Mary's hand in his and addressed his audience.

"Last night…" Matthew now looked solely to Robert and Cora, "I asked for your daughter's hand in marriage."

The parents gasped. Matthew looked to Mary now, his eyes full of love.

"And I accepted." Mary concluded for him, not breaking eye contact with him. It felt like they had just re-enacted the proposal itself.

All at once, the family leaped from their seats, even Edith, who was beaming just has her parents were. Cora rushed to her daughter and embraced her, Robert to Matthew. Rosamund stood with poise, not overly excited, both in response to her own troubles of the last few days and a certain sense of remorse at the understanding that had it not been for her, this happy event would have probably taken place long ago. However, she did not let her guilt get the best of her.

"Congratulations, my dear, dear fellow." Robert said, shaking Matthew's hand vigorously and patting him on the back. Edith followed, giving him a friendly hug and wishing him well.

Cora and Robert exchanged places and the Earl embraced his daughter.

"You said you wanted a good man for me, Papa." Mary said in his ear as they held each other. "But I don't think any cowboy would have quite measured up."

They parted and he gently took his daughter's face in his hands. "He's the only man I would have ever chosen for you, my darling. You love each other. There's no one more worthy."

She embraced her father again before moving away toward Edith. Despite their past quarrels, they laughed as Edith took her elder sister in her arms, wordlessly communicating how happy she was for her. Rosamund offered her congratulations politely, which was all either Matthew or Mary were expecting. She was not the warmest of their relatives.

Suddenly, Cousin Violet bustled into the room, highly perturbed. She was soon followed by Isobel Crawley, looking more curious and amused than flustered.

"What is the meaning of all this? I was told to hurry over because Mary had something to announce. I hope it's as urgent as the timing would suggest." said the Dowager Countess in one breath. Robert and Cora made way for Matthew and Mary to approach her.

Mary looked to Carson.

"Apologies, Lady Mary. I know you said to wait until after breakfast but I felt the occasion called for a bit more swiftness."

"It's perfectly all right, Carson. Thank you," she replied with a small laugh.

Isobel moved beside the Countess.

"I received a similar message to Cousin Violet. Matthew? Mary? Is something the matter?"

Matthew took the lead here, but brought Mary's hand into his own.

"Well, mother. I took your advice. Mary and I are engaged."

Isobel yelped in delight and threw her arms around the both of them before moving exclusively to her son, who she overwhelmed with kisses.

"Mother, please…" he said, a bit embarrassed but still so happy. Mary looked to her grandmother, who didn't move. She simply stood, smiling quietly to herself.

"Have you anything to say on the matter, Granny?" Mary asked. Matthew and Isobel parted to await her response. After another moment of thought, she spoke.

"Nothing, as a matter of fact," even she was surprised by it, "Only…it's about time, my dears!" and the elderly woman chuckled, politely embracing her granddaughter and Matthew.

The morning wore on. Once everyone had exhausted their congratulations, Robert and Carson ushered everyone on to breakfast. As Robert closed the doors behind him, he smiled back at Matthew and Mary who wordlessly thanked him for granting them a moment alone.

Matthew moved to Mary and wrapped his arms around her. They held each other in silence for a long moment.

"I love you," he said into the crook of her neck. His voice felt hot on her skin, it sent a shiver through her.

"And I love you," she replied, not breaking their hold. Soon, Matthew pulled his head away to gaze into the eyes of his betrothed. He kissed her sweetly.

"It feels real now," Mary said. "Not that it didn't last night, but…I'm not sure how to express it…it's just, now that we've told them…"

"I know exactly what you mean."

She smiled at this and brought a hand to his cheek.

"Of course you do."

She leaned up and kissed him, tender and warm. He squeezed her close before releasing her. The couple stepped apart and Matthew held out his hand to her, inviting her to follow him into the dining room. She took it, astounded even by the simple joy of the fact that they could now enter a room holding hands. At this realization, which she could see he shared, she knew with certainty that neither of them would take one moment of this for granted.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you for the continued support, readers!

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: Matthew and Mary travel to London to announce their engagement in the wake of Carlisle's expose on Mary.<p>

* * *

><p>Over the next month, Matthew and Mary began to question whether their engagement had come at precisely the best possible moment, or the worst. Hardly a week after he had left the house with his tail between his legs, Richard Carlisle had published the story of Mary and Pamuk in every popular British paper. It was a bitter but somewhat funny coincidence that Matthew and Mary's engagement was announced in the very same printings.<p>

Though on paper the timing seemed terrible, Matthew was grateful that he could be at Mary's side during this period of turmoil. Of course, he knew Mary was fully capable of braving this storm on her own, but he was happy to be there for her whenever she needed his support. And though she would perhaps never admit it forthright, she appreciated that she didn't have to go through this alone. It only served to bring them closer together.

* * *

><p>It was an afternoon in early February. A few weeks had passed since Matthew proposed and spring was approaching surprisingly quick. Mary and Cora were sitting in the parlor, Cora with her needlepoint, Mary with a book in her lap.<p>

Mary glanced repeatedly up at her mother, as if debating whether to strike up a conversation. Cora could tell her daughter was feeling anxious about something, and took the cue to speak.

"Something the matter, dear?"

Mary sighed. "I'm only wondering if we should delay the trip to London by a week…or perhaps a few weeks, even."

Cora didn't need to ask why.

"Now, Mary, you can't hide out here forever. Eventually you will have to face the public."

"I know, but, perhaps it were better if we gave it just a little more time to die over."

"Sweetheart, the longer you avoid it the worse it's going to be. It's not as if you're being paraded through the streets of London like Hesther Prynne."

"Aren't I?"

"No. You're celebrating your engagement to the man you love. And for the sake of Matthew's feelings, you would do well to remember that."

Mary softened at this, her mother had a point. Still, she knew that even if she and Matthew were there to celebrate, most people would be there for the gossip.

"But, Mama, everyone is talking. Everyone will talk, especially when they get the chance to see the harlot in the flesh."

"Then let them talk. And don't say such things about yourself, it'll only encourage them." Cora sat up and addressed her daughter directly, making sure she was hearing her. "Now. You're going to go to London, and you will carry yourself with the grace and dignity that I know you possess. Prove to them that you can survive this, that you are above it. And remember, you will have all of us there with you. And heaven knows Matthew won't leave your side for more than a moment." She took Mary's hand in encouragement. "You have nothing to worry about, my dear."

Mary smiled in gratitude. "I hope you're right, Mama."

At that moment, Matthew entered. "Right about what?"

Before Mary had time to come up with an excuse, Cora took it as her cue to exit the room.

"I'm going to check on the progress of lunch," she said, sharing a knowing look with a clearly perturbed Mary. Matthew gave her a friendly nod as she left, confused and intrigued by what had passed between them.

"Is everything all right?" He asked in a pleasant tone, taking Cora's now vacant seat.

"Yes. Or I think it will be, at least." Mary answered ominously.

Matthew leaned toward Mary. "What's the matter?" but he needed only to look at the troubled and thoughtful look on her face to put it together, "Something with Carlisle?"

"I'm just a bit nervous for London, that's all." Mary stood and moved toward the window, facing away from him.

"I know." Matthew rose and came up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She relaxed slightly into his arms.

"Whatever they say about you, however bad it might get, remember you'll have me. And I dare say my hand has recovered well enough from Carlisle. I'm ready to sock anyone who crosses you."

Mary couldn't help but laugh a little at this. She turned around and leaned against the window sill. Matthew wrapped his arms around her and they adjusted into a loose embrace. She played a little at his tie.

"I just…no, nevermind. It's silly."

She looked away, but he brought his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin to lift her eyes to his.

"Nonsense. What is it, darling?"

"I know they'll say things about me, I'm ready for that. But I'm worried you'll be dragged into all this too. After all, what man would ever be desperate enough to marry so scandalous a woman as me," she said, as if she had scripted the gossip already in anticipation of the worst.

"And if they do, I'll tell them to bugger off and mind their own business."

"You say that now, but you don't know. It could be a nightmare, Matthew. It probably will be."

"But what do you think is going to happen? That I'll throw you over?" Matthew said, laughing at its preposterousness. Yet, as he said it, Mary's face sunk, confirming that yes, that is precisely what she was thinking.

"Oh, Mary…" he began, "Surely you don't think so low of me?"

"Of course not!" she was quick to defend. "I don't know…I suppose with all this talk, and my reputation ruined…sometimes I wonder myself why you would want to marry me. I mean honestly, Matthew, why do you think I waited so long to tell you about Pamuk?"

Matthew hated seeing her so distressed. Mary rarely allowed herself to be this vulnerable, only when they were totally alone together. For a woman so put together and confident, Matthew was really the only one who truly understood what a fragile soul she really was. Perhaps that's why she loved him.

"Lady Mary Crawley," he said, taking her hands tight in his. He had not used her full name since the night he proposed, "I am marrying you because I love you. Because I have loved you for almost a decade, and I have waited quite long enough to call you my wife. So please do not for one second think you can get rid of me that easily." She laughed a little a this. "It will take a lot more than gossip for me to think of you as anything other than the woman whom I cannot imagine my life without."

Mary had small, happy tears in her eyes. Matthew gently wiped them away.

"Oh, Matthew. I hope you know how badly I wish I had said yes to you all those years ago…"

But before she could continue, he stopped her mouth with a small kiss.

"Sshh. Don't talk like that. Don't talk in the past. We are engaged properly, we are going to London to parade it for the world, and then we will return and finally…finally become husband and wife."

Mary collected herself and nodded. The prospect of that glorious event gave her all the confidence and determination she needed. She stood to smooth her clothes and carry on with her day, but did not completely break from Matthew's embrace. Without a word, she took his face in her hands and pulled him in for a deep kiss.

"Thank you," she said.

And he knew what this meant. This was her way of expressing that despite everything about her character, her stubborn nature and her need for independence, she was glad – and proud – to have him be the man at her side.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, the pair, along with the entire Crawley family (save for Sybil, whose pregnancy was moving along in Ireland) were gathered together at Lady Rosamund's London home. They shared the company of some of Britain's highest elite, both noble and otherwise. Richard Carlisle was notably absent.<p>

Matthew had been trying all evening to hide how intimidated he was by all this grandeur, especially beside Mary, for whom it was clearly second nature. The last time he had ever had to attend anything quite this high profile was at Sybil's ball years ago, when he and Mary were first looking toward marriage. Even during the war, the state dinners he attended were formal and had a very business-like quality to them. He had never felt such pressure to appear sociable.

The two of them had planted themselves in a convenient corner of the room where well-wishers could seek them out and move along to mingle. Mary could sense Matthew's slight anxiety, but she hoped it would subside. She could feel all the eyes in the room on her, and it would have made her feel better not to take the reigns of this meet and greet, even if she did know the ropes better than her fiancé.

Things had proved as Mary suspected. The room was full of whispering couples attempting to seem discrete even though every few seconds they would glance toward Mary and Matthew.

Robert and Cora were doing a commendable job, however, at distracting people. They were perhaps more adamant than even Mary was to prove that the scandal had not affected their lives in the least. If anything, they took it as an opportunity to seem more interesting among the stuffier elements of the British aristocracy.

Edith was enjoying the company of Anthony Strallan, who was clearly starting to come around from his earlier protestations against the idea of Edith marrying him. Enough time had passed that Mary no longer blamed Edith for the current status of her reputation, so she was glad to see her sister finally enjoying a social life.

Matthew noticed Mary taking in their surroundings. She was quiet, but not in the silent strength that usually defined her. This was a palpable unease.

"How are you, darling?" Matthew said sweetly, rubbing her back lightly as the line to congratulate them lulled. The room was grand enough that they felt they could afford a moment of slight intimacy undetected.

"Bearing up," she replied. "I hope they don't think they're being subtle."

"Try to ignore it. Believe it or not some of these people might actually be happy for us."

"But just look at them, Matthew. They're loving this."

He wasn't sure what he could say to distract her, so he allowed her to continue.

"They've turned this into some gossip for tomorrow's tea. These ladies will be sitting in a parlor days from now, going on about how they were there and saw me in person. And they'll talk of how I tried to put on a brave face, but it's clear I wear my shame wherever I go."

"Thinking that way will only encourage them."

"But NOT thinking that way won't stop them!"

Matthew glanced around, hoping her sudden elevation in tone hadn't turned any heads.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to get upset…This just isn't how this was meant to be."

"What do you mean?"

Mary looked intently at Matthew, her tone almost desperate. "I've been waiting for this for so long. We both have. I wanted to be here celebrating with you for all our friends to see. Now we may as well be animals in a zoo."

Matthew looked around and took in how cold the place felt. Mary was right. There was no use trying to deny it. He didn't want to fight to be happy in this moment any more than she did. With this realization, he made up his mind.

"Very well, then. How about this," he took her hand in his that wasn't occupied with champagne and spoke to her close, "What would you say to skipping the rest of this party and having a night to our selves."

She gave him a quizzical look. "I don't mean like that," he said. They shared a small laugh, "but you said you wanted this trip to be about flaunting our love for the city. Well…let's go out into the city, then. Get lost for a while."

A loving smile spread across Mary's face, indicating this was yet another moment where she was struck by how well he knew her character. "That sounds perfect," she sighed.

With that, Matthew took her class and his and found a nearby waiter, placing them upon his empty tray. He found Molsely and asked him to fetch his and Lady Mary's coats and meet them outside.

Edith was standing nearby and had witnessed the exchange.

"Are you going somewhere, cousin Matthew?" she asked, almost as a joke. It was his party after all. Matthew glanced around, hoping not to be overheard. He felt Edith was all right to know.

"Turns out Mary and I aren't quite cut out for our own debut. Don't tell your parents unless you absolutely need to." That was all the explanation she needed. Edith looked to her sister, who was watching their conversation, clearly anticipating Matthew's return. The sisters nodded to each other, Mary in grateful understanding.

Matthew looked toward Mary and gave a slight nudge of his head, indicating for her to quietly exit through the back door that stood near her, as if heading toward the powder room.

"Better make a clean escape," Edith said, sending Matthew off in the opposite direction out the main doors. Just as he approached them, he was stopped by Robert, who clapped his arm around the younger man's shoulder.

"Where are you off to, chap? You're the man of the hour!" Matthew could tell the Earl was several drinks into the evening. He was even jollier than usual.

Matthew did his best to hide his nervousness. "Just going for a breath of air, m'Lord."

"Matthew, my boy, when are you going to start calling me 'father'? Or Robert at least."

"I'm afraid I'm not quite up to it just yet. Still takes practice, even after all this time."

Robert laughed. "Mind if I join you for that air?"

At this, panic set in. Matthew knew that by now Mary was probably standing outside in the cold waiting for him. "Actually…Robert, I'd like to be alone if I could. Gather my thoughts."

Robert considered him for a long moment. Matthew prayed that this would be enough. Once the older man began laughing to himself, he knew it had been.

"Fair enough, dear boy. But don't keep my daughter waiting in here all by her lonesome! Hardly good husbandry, if I may say."

Matthew shared a chuckle and gradually moved away. Robert didn't seem to notice.

* * *

><p>At last, he was outside. Mary was in her coat and holding his out to him. Once they were settled, the couple took each other in. It was a spontaneous decision, even for them, which made it all the more exciting. Mary suddenly felt giggles bubble up through her, soon followed by Matthew. In pure giddiness, they met for a sweet kiss before taking each other by the arm and getting ready to march off into the night.<p>

However, just as they made the first few steps, a man stumbled out of the party they had just exited. They recognized him as some sort of new money'd journalist. No doubt a friend of Carlisle's. He had been cold in his greeting to them, and now appeared to be quite drunk as he reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

Matthew and Mary decided to press on and hope no one caused trouble. Of course, just as they did so, the man did a double-take, realizing who it was. They began to walk by, but could feel his eyes following them. As they began to round a corner, he finally spoke up.

"Oy!" he shouted, getting their attention. "Mr. Crawley! Tell me, how much did they pay you to take the whore off their hands?"

Matthew had stopped at the mention of his name. Mary stood by him, not looking at either the drunk journalist or at Matthew, who was curiously silent.

"One moment, darling," he said softly, unlinking his arm from hers. He slowly approached the man.

"Would you care to repeat yourself?" he said coolly. The man laughed.

"I said, how much did they pay you to marry that whore?" he snarled.

Matthew nodded, satisfied. "Right. That's what I thought, just wanted to make sure I hadn't misheard you." With that, Matthew punched the man square in the face, breaking his nose. The man collapsed to the ground in yelps of pain.

Matthew turned and began walking back to Mary, who was not exactly trying to suppress the smile of pride on her face.

"Sorry, my dear. I don't mean to make a habit of that."

He resumed his position with her arm linked in his and they strode toward the heart of the city.

"Not at all," she said. Now finally sensing the freedom of being away from the spotlight, just on their own, Mary was feeling mischievous. "In fact," she said, bringing her lips to Matthew's ear, the sensation of her warm breath sending an irresistible chill down his spine, "it was rather dashing of you."

Matthew turned to face her, sly grins on both their faces. They stopped mid-stride and pulled each other into what was certainly the most seductive kiss they had ever shared. Yet even in the enchantment of this night on their own, they both knew that Mary could not afford another scandal of that nature, even if it was with the man she would soon marry. So, reluctantly on both their parts, they broke the kiss, but their eyes still glistened with love and desire for one another.

"So, I've been wondering…" Matthew said, his face yet hardly an inch from hers, "Am I still a sea monster?"

Mary let out a giddy laugh at the memory. How long ago it was, how far they had come since then. It overwhelmed her every time she thought about it. And in thinking of it now, she realized that this sensation was exactly what she had always dreamed this trip would feel like. What it should feel like. And of course, only Matthew could have made that possible.

Feeling their love once again renewed, Mary kissed her waiting groom, promising that it didn't matter whether he was a sea monster or Perseus, or even Zeus himself. What mattered was that he was hers.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the update delay! I had some writers' block for a while, but hopefully this chapter will satisfy :) Thank you again for all the continued readership!

(FYI, this chapter jumps ahead a bit. Apologies for not elaborating on the London trip, but I'm eager to get to the wedding/their marriage haha)

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: The wedding is a day away, and Mary and Matthew decide to confront their past once and for all.<p>

* * *

><p>They had decided on a June wedding. The sun was bright, the air was warm, and the season was ready to usher in the happiness of their new beginning as husband and wife. Matthew and Mary could feel themselves every day moving closer and closer toward the cusp of what they saw to be a grand future.<p>

London had, in their eyes, been a success. They made their statement to society by proving they didn't rely upon it. And though this may not have presented the most amiable image, it certainly set a tone for how the future Earl and Countess of Grantham conducted themselves as a couple. They were proud to already have a reputation for unpredictability. And though he would not admit it, Robert felt more sure than ever that he was leaving his life's work in the proper hands.

But now, with the wedding only days away, Mary and Matthew were focused on the propriety of the thing. Despite what were most likely both of their wishes, certainly Matthew's, the wedding was to be an extravagant affair. Dignitaries they had never met had been invited, as Mary well knew any wedding among the aristocracy was at once both a political and personal occasion. The saving grace of the event itself was that it was to be held at Downton. On this, they both insisted, and were met with no resistance from any party.

Cora and Isobel had elected themselves the overseers, with Isobel respectfully allowing Cora to take the lead as this sort of thing was clearly more comfortable to her jurisdiction. But of course, they both had to answer to the Dowager Countess.

* * *

><p>The afternoon before the wedding, Mary found herself alone in the drawing room with her Aunt Rosamund. Her mother and Cousin Violet had gone off to do a last inspection of the floral arrangements, and Edith was upstairs with a visiting Sybil, helping put her newborn son down for a nap.<p>

"So, my dear. You must be absolutely beside yourself," Aunt Rosamund said with encouragement. Mary smiled politely. She appreciated the sentiment, but was getting a bit tired of understatements such as these.

"It's certainly been a long time coming." She answered.

In the library, Matthew was finishing a conversation with Robert about various odd topics. He decided now that he would seek out Mary. There wasn't anything in particular he wanted to discuss, simply to enjoy her company for the afternoon. As he moved down the corridor, he heard voices coming from the nearby drawing room. He recognized them as Aunt Rosamund's and Mary's.

"You know, I ran into Richard Carlisle the other day," he heard Aunt Rosamund say. At this, despite knowing better, he decided to wait beside the door without making his presence known. He knew what ability Rosamund had to manipulate Mary's opinions.

Mary perked up at Rosamund's words. She hadn't heard about Carlisle since London. The story had since died down, though her reputation remained where it was more or less.

"Oh? What does he say?"

"He's engaged, apparently. Some young socialite. I don't believe she comes from any titles."

Mary wasn't sure what she was feeling. She was glad for him, but couldn't help but wonder what life she would have led with him. Rosamund could clearly sense this. Outside the door, Mary's silence was making Matthew sweat.

"Do you ever get curious? Or think of what would have happened had you chosen the other path?" Rosamund inquired.

Mary thought for a moment. In this silence, Matthew could feel all the anger he had bore the first time she had hesitated to accept him once again resurfacing. But he kept himself collected and tried to remain open-minded.

"Sometimes," Mary spoke honestly. "Of course, there is no doubt it would have been interesting."

"You would have been at the center of London society. A woman of great influence and importance." Rosamund added.

"Yes. That is true."

Matthew wasn't sure how much more he could listen to.

"I only worry that you might not be quite stimulated enough in the country, my dear. I'm not trying to sabotage." Her voice suggested that this was in fact the truth.

Matthew doubted that.

"No, of course not. I admit, there are moments where I wonder how life as a Yorkshire wife will treat me." Mary said.

Matthew felt a pit in his stomach. He had heard enough. Instead of barging in and confronting Rosamund for once again trying to dissuade his bride, he simply marched off, hoping time to walk and think would help settle him down. He didn't want to let his temper get away with him as it had last time, but still. The wedding was tomorrow, he couldn't let things unravel when they were this close.

Mary sat quietly, thinking of how to continue.

"Yet…" she began, "Whenever I do think of it - of what my life here will be like versus what a life in the heart of London would have been…it's not so complicated as you might think."

Rosamund smiled knowingly. She understood what Mary was telling her, but spoke anyway to confirm.

"You mean…" there was only one way she could think to put it, "Matthew."

Mary smiled contentedly. That was precisely it. She nodded at her aunt, feeling somehow much younger than she was.

"I might have led a more interesting life in London, but without him…what would it have mattered? I could never be happy with Carlisle. Matthew and I belong together. And whether we're living in a Yorkshire cottage or a London flat, that's all that matters. In the end."

Rosamund had never seen her cool, composed niece speak so emotionally. It truly took her aback. As she absorbed these feelings, Rosamund took a moment to contemplate the role she had played in the relationship between Matthew and Mary. Enough time had passed and she had learned enough to know that it was time to make amends.

"Listen, my dear girl. I feel I owe you an apology…and I feel I have owed it to you for a long time."

Mary looked up, curious at this tone with which she had never heard her Aunt speak before.

"I should never have made you doubt it, those years ago. I didn't understand how you felt for him. Had I known you cared for more than his inheritance, I would not have said a word. I hope you can forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive, Aunt Rosamund. None of us could have predicted the events of the last eight years. Had I known then what I know now, I doubt anyone would have allowed me to question it, least of all myself. But I believe…I believe perhaps I had to lose him for that time. Otherwise I would be taking this all for granted."

Mary had never thought about things that way, but it was the truth. Still, she could never let go of the regret she felt for spending all those years of the war unable to speak her true feelings.

Rosamund nodded silently. They had at last reached an honest truce on the matter.

* * *

><p>That evening, Matthew was restless, pacing his dressing room. He didn't want to jump to conclusions about what he had overheard between Mary and Rosamund, but he couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that overcame him. They had almost come this close last time before Rosamund's words had dissuaded Mary, and though he knew better than to think that was still the case, he wasn't sure enough not to act on his discomfort. With determination, he moved from his dressing room, still dressed in his tuxedo, and marched toward Mary's quarters on the other side of the house.<p>

There, Anna was only just beginning to help Mary remove her gloves and jewelry from dinner. Before the women could even properly settle into conversation, there was a familiar knocking at the door. Anna moved to answer it, even though they both could guess who it was.

"Good evening, Mr. Crawley." Anna said.

"Is Mary in?" his voice was not quite as calm and pleasant as usual.

"Isn't it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?" Anna teased. Matthew chuckled lightly at this.

"It's all right, Anna, send him in." Even without seeing his face, Mary could sense something had changed in him. She had first noticed it at dinner, where though he had been warm and grateful for all the toasts to their happiness, she had not sensed her excitement mirrored in him.

Matthew entered and greeted her quite formally. Mary, confused by this, approached him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek, as opposed to the lips, where she had originally intended.

"Darling," Matthew began, "I wondered if you might care to join me for a walk out on the grounds?" His voice began to warm again. Mary smiled at this unique proposition. For some reason a part of her registered that this is exactly what she wanted to do right now. Her eagerness and antsiness was ultimately impatience at how little time remained between now and when she would finally be able to be in his company at any and all time she chose.

"I would love to," she replied. The pair left the room and Anna behind. The housemaid sat on Mary's bed, wondering what this could possibly be about, and fighting the feeling that it couldn't be anything good.

No one had noticed them leave the outer hall, indeed most had already gone to bed save a few servants, so Mary and Matthew were granted one of the last moments of privacy they were likely to receive over the next 24 hours.

For several minutes they walked in silence holding hands, Matthew thinking of what he wanted to say, Mary taking in the utter peace of this moment, and hoping it would become a routine for them.

"Mary…" Matthew began. He glanced sideways at her, she looked at him warmly and with expectation. "I must tell you…I've been thinking about things."

"What sort of things?" Mary said, not entirely as calm as she was just seconds ago.

"Oh…just…the estate, our future, that sort of thing."

"So you mean – our marriage?" she asked, hoping this wasn't turning into a conversation she had feared for years.

"If you want to put it like that, yes."

Mary finally stopped, forcing him to acknowledge her head on. He had not seemed this distant from her since long before they were engaged.

"I only want to make sure…" he continued to struggle, especially now that he felt really confronted by her, "that you are happy…with your prospects, that is."

She was confused and it worried her.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father and mother are going to live a long many years, I dare say. You and I may be the next Earl and Countess of Grantham…but for possibly much longer than that, you will be the wife of a 'country solicitor' as you once so eloquently called me."

She didn't appreciate his recall of the days she was so cold to him.

"What's gotten into you? Why are you talking like this?"

It was time for Matthew to fess up.

"I heard you and Rosamund talking today. I heard what you said."

"Oh did you? What exactly did you hear me say?"

Her tone confirmed to Matthew that he had jumped to the wrong conclusion, but he knew he couldn't disobey her right now.

"I heard you say that…you wonder what your life would have been with Carlisle. Living at the top of London society…all that power and influence. You would be at the center of the social scene, so on and so on."

Matthew had moved away from her as he spoke. She thought it was out of disappointment and hurt rather than the truth: embarrassment. Regardless, she was at the ready to quell his fears, and her own.

Mary moved toward him one inch at a time as she spoke.

"And did you then hear me say that even though yes, I do think about what could have been mine, I immediately stop myself…and I remember that no matter how much fame and power and popularity I might have gained…I would not have you to call my husband. And if I am to marry, it will be to a man I am proud to stand beside. A man that I love."

Matthew blushed, knowing he had been scolded. He bowed his head in defeat and chuckled a bit to himself. Looking up, he saw Mary with a satisfied grin on her face, but one that also asked for reassurance that he understood what she had just told him.

In answer, Matthew leaned in and kissed her.

"I'm sorry. You'll forgive me, my dear…I get nervous when I hear you talk like that. I know we're not the people we were those years ago…but I still wonder sometimes."

"Wonder what, exactly?"

He smiled sweetly, thinking of his answer. "What on Earth I've done to deserve you."

She didn't respond to this, only gazed at him with such loving eyes, almost in disbelief at the reminder that in mere hours, they would be man and wife. Tonight would be the last night they would wake up without the other lying beside them.

Matthew took Mary's hand and they continued walking. As happy as she was, there was still a part of her that was troubled by Matthew's insinuated doubt. If a mere misunderstanding of an overheard conversation between Mary and her Aunt Rosamund was enough to put doubts in him, clearly she had not articulated her commitment as well as she had hoped.

Mary thought in silence on this for a long while. It was Matthew's turn to simply bask in the cool splendor of this mid-summer night, his love at his side, a light breeze coming toward them.

"Matthew…" Mary's voice was small. Matthew knew this meant she was about to speak of something she probably never had before.

"During the war…when they thought you might not walk again…" Mary struggled to figure out exactly how to put this, Matthew was clearly unsure where she was going. It caused her to stop and take both his hands in hers, so that the full weight of her sentiment could be felt.

"I hope you know that I would have stayed."

"Stayed…?"

"Had you and I been engaged, no matter what you said…I wouldn't have left you. Even if you were doomed to that chair forever, even if it meant we would never have children. I would have stayed by your side."

"Mary, you say that now that I'm well…"

"I would have said it then," she said, cutting him off so there was no mistake that she meant it. "All I wanted was to say it then. All I wanted was to take care of you and hold your hand while you slept in that hospital bed…I would have done anything."

"Mary, why are you bringing all this up?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I understand it all better now. I made the mistake the first time of thinking there were factors more important than that you and I loved each other. I thought the idea of marrying you when you weren't the heir would make a difference to how I felt…but then…when you had no prospects, when you were to live only half the life you'd hoped for yourself and any wife…I realized that all I wanted was to be the person at your side through all of that. It only made me love you more. And I don't say this to disrespect Lavinia's memory, you know I don't. But I can't help but be angry with myself at knowing there's no good reason that it shouldn't have been me. When you needed me and I needed you. The thought that you might have died without knowing that…without knowing how much I love you…I would never have been able to live with myself."

By now, Mary was in tears of frustration and regret. But she knew this needed to happen, to exercise all the demons of their past that still haunted her. She needed him to know that there had never been a moment where she hadn't wanted to kiss him or hold him, she was just never allowed to.

Matthew, equally emotional, stepped forward and took her face in his hands, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. Now it was his turn to be heard.

"When I returned here, when I was finished with that bloody war, crippled as I was…surely…surely you know…I was coming home to you." Matthew's voice choked with emotion. "I loved Lavinia very much. Of course I did. But I survived that war for you, Mary. So that I might see your face again…even if it was just for once more."

At this moment, they realized they were both teary messes, and had to laugh a little at how carried away they had gotten with their emotions. They knew though, that this was the release they had been waiting for. They had never cried quite like this in front of each other before, which made it all the more of a relief.

"We've been given a second chance, Mary. I was lucky enough to make it out with my life, and I'm a fool for thinking I could ever have lived it without you."

"I love you more than any life. And I will spend mine making sure you never doubt it again."

They spoke the words like vows. With that, they kissed, deep and full of every promise they had just made. Matthew pulled her tight to him, and she gripped his back to ensure there was not a single inch to be spared between them. Their clothed bodies were as close as they could be. Amidst the sensation, a rogue reminder came to them of what not only the following day would bring, but in particular, the following night.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: A few notes on this chapter: 1. I have no idea the specifics of a Catholic wedding, especially not one between British aristocrats in 1920, so forgive me for skimping on some details there. But I'd rather be vague than wrong haha. 2. I got a bit emotional writing the end of this chapter, so forgive me if I got a little carried away with the shmaltz :S Just...sometimes my shipper heart gets overwhelmed by their perfection. You understand.

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><p>Chapter 5: The wedding.<p>

* * *

><p>Mary stood before the long mirror and took herself in. The dress was long and white, with elegant sleeves and a high lace collar. Her rich hair was gently pulled into a bun, covered partially by a veil. She wore her grandmother's best jewelry.<p>

Cora, Edith, and Sybil sat around the room, observing her. All were silent. This was a moment that none of them wanted to cheapen. Edith was surprised that she could feel so happy for Mary, but all their fighting aside, when it came to Matthew, Edith knew her sister deserved her support. She would never forget the moment when she told Mary he had gone missing in the war. Seeing her face, that immediate devastation, it humanized Mary in a way Edith hadn't thought possible. She knew that her love for him was the most important thing in her life, and far be it for Edith to think less of it.

Sybil was beside herself with excitement. She remembered the joy of her own wedding, and how glad she had been to have both of her sisters there. She had not begrudged her family not for coming, it was the choice she had made, but she was glad to be with Mary in this time of such long-awaited joy. She recalled Mary in the hospital, tending to Matthew and caring for him almost every waking moment. Sybil had been frustrated when, as soon as Lavinia returned, Matthew seemed to have forgotten that Mary had hardly once left his bedside and assisted him at his most gruesome moments. She could see how it had upset Mary, hard as she was to read. But she knew that none of it mattered anymore, this wedding would right whatever wrong they had done in the past.

"You look beautiful, darling," Cora said, tears in her eyes.

"Mama, are you crying?" Edith asked with a small laugh.

"My eldest daughter is getting married, I think I'm entitled to some tears, thank you, Edith," she answered. The women all chuckled.

Mary had to keep herself from crying as well. She could hardly believe it was all really happening. A few hours from now, she would be calling Matthew Crawley her husband. She would be the next Countess of Grantham. The thought was so surreal it almost seemed ridiculous.

Though all eyes were on Mary, they shifted slightly when the door opened, and sheepishly, Anna stepped into the room, dressed in a gown she clearly had never thought she would ever be allowed near, let alone wearing.

Mary had insisted, despite objections from almost every member of her family (except her father) that Anna be made a member of her bridal party. It defied protocol in every way, but then, that was quickly becoming what Matthew and Mary were known for. Mary simply could not imagine Anna being anywhere but immediately at her side on this day. Anna had been taken aback by the gesture, as it solidified a long understanding between the two women that they were indeed each other's closest friends. In many ways, Anna was more of a sister to Mary than Edith or Sybil had ever been.

"Oh, Anna, you look beautiful!" Sybil exclaimed. Edith's expression agreed. Mary and Anna caught each other's eye in the mirror and smiled at each other, Mary silently acknowledging how glad she was to have her there.

"I think they're just about ready, m'lady." Anna informed.

Mary took a deep breath and turned to face her family. It was almost time. She couldn't wipe the smile off her face if she tried. Edith, Sybil, and Anna filed out to leave the mother and daughter alone together.

Cora approached her daughter and put her hands on her arms.

"Are you ready, dear?" she asked with warmth.

"Eight years. I'd certainly hope so." Mary answered in her characteristic sarcasm. Cora laughed and exited after her daughters.

"We'll be right outside."

Mary was left alone. She examined herself once more in the mirror and inhaled as one would before diving into deep water.

* * *

><p>Matthew stood in front of the mirror with his arms outstretched as Moseley brushed his jacket. His hair was slicked back and he wore a new tuxedo. He had a soft smile on his face, both excited for what awaited him today but also deeply relieved. He knew that once they were married, a great weight would be lifted off of them. The wait would finally be over. They could begin their lives together at last.<p>

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It opened slightly and Robert's head poked through.

"Might I intrude?" he asked. Moseley finished up his task and welcomed the Earl into the room.

"Certainly," Matthew answered. Moseley quietly exited with a slight bow to the Earl. Robert took a seat in a chair by the window. Matthew continued checking himself in the mirror, making sure everything was properly groomed.

"So here we are," Robert began. "I feel as if just yesterday we were sitting over cigars in the library…trying to figure how all of this would play out."

"It's hard to believe how much time has gone by." Matthew said thoughtfully.

"Indeed."

There was a small silence as the two men contemplated all that had happened during that time. They had survived a war, even if it was just barely. They had survived trials and hardships that years ago they would have never even imagined. It had made them all so much stronger.

"I must tell you, Matthew…" Robert began, he spoke very seriously, "It's what we've always wanted. Not just for Mary, for you as well."

Matthew only smiled at this.

"Of course we would have supported you no matter what path you chose, but it was always clear…at least to Cora and I…you and Mary belong together."

"I agree." Matthew wasn't sure what else to say. He felt odd exclaiming to his father-in-law how desperately in love he was with his daughter, so he refrained, though not without some difficulty.

"When I married Cora, it was for her wealth. The love came afterward. Thank heavens it did. Decisions like this can seem so practical when they're first made. On a wedding day, it's hard to think beyond the immediate benefits. But after decades with that person, raising children…I can't imagine going through that life with someone I didn't truly love."

Matthew had never heard Robert speak of his relationship with Cora in this way. He appreciated the honesty and was reminded of what Cousin Violet had told him that night, when she had burst into his bedroom and tried to convince him to propose to Mary again.

"What I'm saying is…I couldn't be happier for you both. You make her happy, and as a father that is all I could ever want for her. But more than that, I see how deeply you love one another. I may be many years older than you, but I know a man in love. And whether she were my daughter or not, I don't think I could, in good conscience, let you inherit this life with anyone besides Mary…for you and she are the only ones truly worthy of each other."

Matthew was overcome with emotion. He was so grateful to hear Robert give his blessing (though he had never doubted it) but he echoed every word of Matthew's feelings toward Mary. How could he have ever thought he could spend the rest of his life without her at his side? The idea was so miserable he could hardly imagine it anymore, let alone remember that there was a time where he was determined to make that a reality.

"Thank you, Robert," he said. "I only want to take care of her. As she's taken care of me."

"There's no better man for the job." With that, Robert clapped Matthew on the shoulder and stood. At that moment, Moseley re-entered the room.

"It's time, sir."

Matthew took a deep breath.

"Thank you, Moseley."

Matthew stood. This time Robert took in the appearance of the young man. He was proud, to say the least. He gave him a quick brush of the shoulders.

"I think you're ready, my dear fellow."

And with that, Robert let Matthew lead the way out the door.

* * *

><p>Matthew stood beside the vicar in the grand hall. He looked out at the faces before him, both familiar and strange. His mother and Cousin Violet were beaming up at him with pride. Tom Branson sat a few rows behind them, giving a look of approval to his soon-to-be brother-in-law. His and Sybil's baby, Patrick, was being cared for by a nanny elsewhere in the house. All the guests were arrived, and it was time for the ceremony to begin.<p>

Matthew felt his breath catch as the music began playing. One by one the bridal party marched in, he smiled at the sight of Anna, proud of Mary for staying true to her wishes. Finally, the march sounded. The room made a collective sound as it stood for Mary's entrance.

Suddenly, she appeared. Matthew felt the air escape his lungs and his heart quicken in pace. There she was. His bride, his partner. Looking more beautiful than he had even imagined. Her face was shrouded by a veil, but he could have seen the smile on her face from more than a mile away. His expression mirrored hers.

Mary was grateful to have the arm of her father. She was sure she might have fainted right then and there, so overcome was she with the pure joy of this moment. How long she had waited for it, how deeply they both deserved it.

When she reached Matthew, Robert ceremoniously draped her veil behind her face, so she and Matthew could get a proper look at each other. He could see every tear she tried to fight back, and she could see every one of his.

Robert gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek, happier for them than he could even express.

What Matthew would have given to have been able to kiss her right there and then. But they simply smiled quietly to each other, understanding that words were almost pointless now. All they could do was simply let it happen.

The vicar welcomed the guests and spoke a series of prayers. Finally, Matthew and Mary turned to each other, and one after another repeated the holy vows which the vicar dictated to them. The words were so formal and archaic, but they filled them with their own feelings of pure love and warmth. At last, at long last, they kissed.

It was chaste, and gave the effect of closing a book. This chapter was over, a new journey was now to begin. When they parted, Mary and Matthew could not look away from each other. They wanted nothing more than to hold each other, not only out of love, but a deep sense of pride at having finally made it here.

"I love you."

Matthew barely heard her say the words.

"I love you," he whispered back.

Amidst their joy, they remembered there was an entire crowd of people watching them, applauding the young couple. Even Cousin Violet was on her feet. They knew they owed her a special thanks, she had never given up the cause of bringing the two of them together, even when things looked their most dismal.

As they looked out at their family, their loved ones, they came to a mutual realization. No matter how bad things had gotten, no one had ever truly given up on them. Everyone had seen it from the start: they were meant to be together. And now, standing here as man and wife, they understood that they had never truly given up on each other either, even if they had at times given up on themselves.

Matthew could have married Lavinia and led a content and peaceful life. But even she had known she would always be second best. Mary could have had the powerful and exciting life she had imagined as a girl with Carlisle, but it would have been a lonely life. No matter how much they had tried to fight it, their lives, and above all, their love, would have always led them to this place.

It would be a struggle. They would argue, they would disagree, they would probably hurt one another with or without meaning to, but they would rather face a lifetime of good days and bad with each other than a life of constant ease and safety with anyone else. They had made it through a war. They had proven how much they could withstand without each other. Eight years of constant questions, constant doubts and dashed hopes, only to finally stand here, understanding they could never have settled for anything less than each other. As Matthew had told her, they had lived their lives. They were different people than they were those years ago, they were different people than they had been even a day ago. Whatever the future had in store for them, it could never be as difficult as what they had already endured, for the simple fact that no matter what they had left to face, they would be facing it as husband and wife.

Matthew and Mary reached for each other's hand at the same moment. With one last glance at each other, Matthew led his bride up the aisle, toward whatever lay ahead.

* * *

><p>AN: Unfortunately due to my schedule over the next few days, the earliest I will be updating is Sunday night, most likely Monday. Sorry for the delay! I promise I will do my best to write a wedding night chapter worthy of the wait.

You readers are wonderful! Thank you for sticking with it :)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I am SO sorry it has taken me so long to update! Between school, writers block, sickness, my brain's been a jumble. Do forgive me!

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><p>Chapter 6: The wedding night (RATED M-ish!)<p>

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><p>The festivities of the evening were drawing to a close. Robert and Cora had gone to bed, Cousin Violet had been driven home and Isobel was staying at the Big House. All that remained in the parlor were Matthew, Mary, her sisters, and Branson.<p>

"I can't tell you how happy I am for you both, truly." Sybil said, still beaming at her sister and brother-in-law. "And to think, I once had a little crush on you."

Branson's ears perked up at this.

"Oh calm down," Sybil said, merely sensing his objection, "he had defended my honor, a girl can swoon for an hour, can't she?"

Matthew chuckled a bit at this. Sybil corrected the damage by leaning into Branson, who held their infant son asleep on his lap.

"To be honest, I had a bit of a crush myself," Edith chimed in. Mary was getting decidedly uncomfortable, though she knew she had no reason to. This only annoyed her further.

"Heavens, you'll make him think I was the last to the party!" Mary said, trying to use her icy wit to overcompensate for nervousness.

"It was mainly just to spite Mary," Edith corrected, hoping it would satisfy her sister, "No offense," she relayed to Matthew. He shrugged it off.

"Sorry to have disappointed ladies, but there was just something about her complete and utter distaste for me that I couldn't get quite enough of, I'm afraid."

Mary, who was leaning against Matthew's shoulder, looked up at this. She had never heard him speak of that time before, the time before their first kiss, when neither quite knew how the other was feeling at any given moment.

"Oh really?"

"Are you surprised to hear it?" He answered.

"No…no, of course not. I was just so awful to you then. I can't imagine what about me you could've possibly liked."

Edith and Sybil shared a laugh with their sister at this.

"Don't worry. I know it took a little longer for you to get there, but you were bound to succumb to my charm."

Mary made a sound in offense and surprise. She enjoyed these moments of teasing between them. After a moment of thought, however, she drew the white flag.

"True enough, I suppose."

The couple exchanged a sweet look of tenderness before sharing a light kiss.

At that moment, Branson turned to Sybil.

"I think we'd better tuck in. This one's had about enough for one day, I think," he said softly, indicating their sleeping infant, curled in his father's lap. Sybil nodded in agreement, but paused for a moment to give Brason a quick kiss. Love was in the air tonight, she wanted to remind her husband that she still felt like a newlywed with him.

"I think Tom and I are off to bed," Sybil announced formally to those present. Everyone stood and bid each other goodnight. The last to embrace were Sybil and Mary.

"Congratulations, my dear sister," the youngest whispered to the eldest. She leaned in close and added, "Have a good night. God knows you've earned it."

The sisters shared a mischievous laugh, but genuine as well. Sybil spoke the truth, and though no one was saying it, the general energy of the room suggested 'let's leave these two alone.' With that, Sybil and Branson carried their son from the parlor, followed by Edith.

Matthew and Mary turned to each other. There was suddenly a palpable tension in the room. They were completely alone and were keenly aware of the final step that awaited them on this, their wedding night.

"The car will be back by now…to bring us home – or, to my house, that is." Matthew struggled to hide his nervousness. Mary found it terribly sweet. She was certainly a bit uneasy as well. Of course, it wasn't that they weren't aching with anticipation at the prospect of finally being together, but their excitement was so great that they feared if they expressed it too enormously, the other would run off. Their courtesy for each other's feelings and comfort were once again trumping their more fundamental desires.

"All of your things are there and settled, I imagine. Anna brought them earlier." Matthew mentioned.

"Very good…And your mother is staying here tonight, you know." This was as subtle as Mary cared to be at articulating that they would have absolute privacy at the Crawley house.

"Right. She mentioned that earlier."

After another moment of silence, Matthew was struck with an idea. He knew they both needed just another slight push in order to really embrace this moment they had been waiting for for so long, and free themselves of any burden of expectation.

"Here, come with me," he said, holding out his hand. Mary was intrigued, and took it, walking with him into the front hall. He stepped away from her toward the gramophone and began rifling through records.

"What are you doing?" Mary asked with a bemused look on her face. He was very determined in his actions. He didn't respond immediately.

"HERE it is!" he exclaimed. Matthew bustled around the table and exchanged the record in his hand with the one already on the player.

"What is it?" Mary was full of curiosity.

"You'll see." Matthew gingerly placed the needle on the record. He stepped toward Mary and held out his arms. She weaved herself into the waltz position with Matthew as the familiar song began to play.

_"Sometimes when I feel low_  
><em>and things look blue<em>

_I wish a pal I had, say one like you…"_

Mary chuckled lightly as she recognized it.

"It's our song. Do you remember?" Matthew asked, even though he knew she did.

"Of course. I thought I'd seen a ghost when you walked in."

_"Someone within my heart to build a throne_

_Someone who'd never part, to call my own…"_

"I remember your face. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so relieved to see me, or quite so shocked."

"And yet you claim you didn't know I still loved you?"

_"If you were the only girl in the world_

_And I were the only boy…"_

At this, Matthew had to blush.

"You had just accepted Carlisle…Besides, I thought you'd gone off me after I turned you away."

Mary was so tired of all this. It seemed like all they did was remind themselves of the past, and even when it was a happy thing, like now, there was always a regret close by, one that still hurt them both.

"Matthew, when are you going to understand. I never once stopped. I have loved you faithfully for the last eight years."

Mary's eyes were full of love as she placed a hand to his cheek.

"I am your wife. You don't have to ask these questions ever again. You've never needed to in the first place."

Matthew sighed, knowing she was right.

"I'm sorry…I'm…" but he couldn't think of what else to say, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. This isn't a night to be sorry for anything."

With that, they smiled warmly at each other and continued dancing. In the silence, Mary found her leaning her head against his, so their cheeks were touching, flush against one another. It was such a simple, yet shockingly intimate sensation. She became acutely aware of the heat between their bodies so close to one another. Slowly, she pulled her cheek from his and looked to him, hoping he too was sensing that it was almost time to leave.

In this silence, Matthew and Mary gazed unblinkingly at one another, their faces hardly an inch apart. They were dancing, but hadn't noticed that the music had stopped long ago. She remembered the last time they were in this position, just before Lavinia came down the stairs and witnessed the event Matthew had believed killed her. How far he had come since then. How glad Mary was for it.

Overwhelmed by their love, and reminded that they were at last husband and wife and nothing, truly nothing, was holding them back any longer, they kissed. It was a kiss such as they had never shared before: passionate, confident, not caring if it produced any consequences because for once, they knew it wouldn't. It was a kiss that signified a lifetime of kisses just like it.

As it grew and deepened, they wordlessly agreed that it was finally time to give in to the desire they had felt for each other since long before the war.

Mary barely parted her lips from Matthew's and whispered, almost breathless, "Let's go."

* * *

><p>In the car, they struggled to keep their hands to themselves, but they knew that if they could simply be patient just a little longer, it would make the moment all the more exquisite. They had waited eight years, surely a matter of minutes wouldn't kill them now.<p>

When the car arrived, Matthew helped Mary out, excusing the chauffeur. They wanted to be as unaware as possible that there were other people in the world right now than each other.

As they entered the house, they were greeted by Molesley and, to Mary's pleasant surprise, Anna.

"Anna? What are you doing here?"

"I am your ladyship's maid aren't I?" Anna said with a smirk.

Mary smiled, thankful to have her friend here with her. Though she wouldn't admit it, certainly not now, Mary was a bit nervous. Anna's presence was a comfort to say the least.

Matthew followed Molesley and Mary followed Anna as husband and wife retreated to their dressing quarters.

"I hope you weren't forced to come down here, I'm sure I could have managed," said Mary once they were behind closed doors.

"Nonsense, m'lady. After what you did for Mr. Bates and I on our wedding night, it was the least I could do to repay you."

"Well I'm glad you're here."

"How are you feeling?"

Anna was the only person close to Mary who really understood everything she had been through with Matthew. The two had shared plenty of heartache together as they watched the men they loved struggle without being able to help them as they felt it was their duty to.

"Like I've been waiting my whole life for this."

"Forgive me for asking, but…does Matthew know about Mr. Pamuk?"

Mary gave it a long thought. She considered that she was approaching this night as 'damanged goods' yet somehow the idea of comparing what she had had with Pamuk to what she was about to have with Matthew seemed nothing short of absurd. Nevertheless, it was not the most pleasant reminder.

"Yes, he does. We've put it behind us."

"Of course. He loves you."

Mary nodded in appreciation of this wonderful fact. Anna helped Mary into her nightgown and dressing robe. She was about to begin putting her hair in a braid when Mary stopped her.

"No," she said, putting her hand up, "leave it down. He's never seen me with it down."

There was something innocent and girlish about the way Mary spoke. She was quiet, in a subdued excitement. Tonight would be the beginning of something entirely new. She would fall asleep in Matthew's arms, she would wake up beside him. Even something as small as being able to loosen her hair down in front of him seemed an almost wondrous thought.

With that, she anointed herself with some of her favorite perfume.

"Are you ready, m'lady?" Anna asked.

"I think so…it hardly seems real."

Anna put her arms to Mary's shoulders. "It is real, m'lady. He's your husband and you are his wife…and he's waiting for you. God knows how long you've waited for him."

"Oh, Anna," Mary threw her arms around the maid in gratitude and excitement. When they parted, Anna nodded to her in encouragement and opened the door, through which Mary passed into the hall.

Anna followed her and led her to the bedroom. She knocked, Matthew's voice sounded from the inside to come in. Anna turned the handle and let the door open on its own, so that Matthew could take in his bride completely, before closing it and allowing them their privacy at last.

His breath caught at the sight of her. There she stood, Lady Mary Crawley, his wife, dressed in a thin nightgown, her dressing gown covering enough to leave some idea to the imagination. Her rich dark hair fell around her shoulders effortlessly. It was the softest he had ever seen her, she was the delicate creature he had for so long conjured in his head when he dreamt of this moment, here standing in front of him.

She had wanted to be beautiful for him tonight. And seeing the look on his face, as he stood in light grey silk pyjamas, she knew that she was. His hair was soft and fell down toward his blue eyes, no longer combed back in military formality. They were their true selves at last, unencumbered by any duty their lives had ever dictated.

Matthew took a bold step toward her, attempting to hide how nervous he truly was, and pulled her to him. He kissed her with the same confidence he had earlier in the evening. They pulled apart, and, for no other reason than she felt compelled to do it, Mary wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he responded by gripping her about the waist, and they simply stood and held each other.

"You are beautiful. And I love you," he whispered into her ear. Mary held him tighter. Suddenly, almost involuntarily, Mary found herself comparing this moment to the night with Pamuk. There had been no love between them, which she well knew, but now that she was here, in love, she understood that the two experiences could not be compared. But even more so, she became filled with regret that she had lost herself so fully that night, and was now allowing it to cheapen this.

Matthew could feel a tear on his cheek and knew it was not his own. He pulled away slightly.

"Darling, what's the matter?" he asked, terrified he had done something wrong already.

"Nothing, it's silly," she said, letting go a laugh at her own ridiculousness.

"Nonsense, what is it?" Matthew implored, brushing her tears away with his thumbs. Mary could not bring herself to look at him.

"I just thought of….of Pamuk. I'm sorry…I just…for some reason I've never felt more ashamed of it than I do right now."

Matthew took a sharp intake of breath, but did not let go of her. He rested his arms around her waist and she placed her head against his chest.

"Mary…listen to me. You were young. This – you and I, here, right now…is something different. Not just because we love each other but because...it's you and I. Nothing I have ever experienced will be more beautiful than this night, and nothing you have ever done could cheapen it because…because it's you, Mary."

She pulled her head from his shoulder and looked deep into his eyes. Something about those words felt like she had been waiting years to hear them. It was such a simple truth. "Because it's you." This was the man she was meant to be with, who she belonged with. It was so simple it had to be the truth.

They had waited quite long enough.

They moved slowly and tenderly at first. Mary leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips so light he barely felt it. With an equally light touch, she brought her hands from his shoulders to his chest, and gently began unfastening the buttons of his night shirt. They parted lips briefly so she could better examine her task. Meanwhile, Matthew found the ribbon of her dressing gown and gingerly pulled it loose. She let her arms rest to her sides as he pushed the garment from her shoulders, letting it fall to the ground around her ankles. He could see the suggestion of her breasts beneath the thin nightgown. It was enough to hurry his actions if only slightly.

Matthew undid the final button on his shirt and removed it, draping it over a nearby chair. He did not take his eyes from his bride. Hers moved to his chest, where her hands followed. She followed the shape of each pectoral down to his abdomen. Mary felt her breath quicken at the warmth of his skin.

Mary looked up into Matthew's eyes. In this moment of total vulnerability, she could see that he was nervous. She had a fleeting curiosity as to his experience, whether he and Lavinia had felt compelled during the war, but the timid look in his eyes she knew was entirely related to the newness of this all. The newness of finally being able to express what they had never been able to.

A gentle smile spread across her face which somehow relaxed him completely. It was a look of such understanding and encouragement. Mary took a single step back, toward the waiting bed, and held her hand out to him. He took it, allowing her to guide him.

She slowly slinked back across the covers, drawing Matthew down with her in a kiss both loving and irresistibly seductive. They moved together until he was completely above her.

Matthew could hardly sustain his thoughts as the sensation of their bodies pressing together began to overwhelm him. Still, he moved with tender purpose. He pulled away from Mary's lips, gazing lovingly down at her, absorbing the wonder of what was about to happen, what was happening. He kissed her neck, across her collar, and finally to where the line of her nightgown covered her chest. The ties that held it closed were thin lace. He pulled away briefly. He made eye contact with his wife, silently asking permission to continue. In response, she brought a hand to his cheek and kissed him gently.

As they kissed, he brought his right hand to the fabric and slowly untied it. Pulling it back, his hands seemed to move of their own volition, exploring her breasts as if she were a delicate work of art, entirely his own. The touch drew a gasp from Mary, she arched her back in response which only brought their bodies closer together. She could feel that Matthew would not wait much longer, and neither could she.

As he continued to let his hands roam freely along her body, she brought her hands to the waistline of his pants. Together, they tugged at the fabric, pulling it down his thighs and around his knees. Matthew tried to kick them from his ankles as smoothly as he could, but there was no way to make the motion delicate. Mary could not repress a small giggle at his struggle. He blushed, a bit embarrassed at his own clumsiness, but when he looked back at Mary's beaming face he remembered that this very clumsiness was simply one of the countless things she loved about him.

As they shared in this moment of humility, they felt the great comfort of their love. She realized, perhaps for the first time, really, that she did not need him to be dashing, or suave, or for him to hold his fork a proper way. She simply needed him to love her. He did not need her to wear her heart on her sleeve or be inviting or warm. He knew that she loved him, however hard it was for her to speak her emotions aloud. They didn't need words anymore.

As they lay slightly apart, silently admiring one another, Mary reached down and began gently pulling the hem of her nightgown up her thigh. Matthew took this cue and the two shared a seductive smirk as he took hold of the nightgown, and in one fluid motion, pulled it above her arms and off of her body, tossing it to the floor to lie beside the rest of their discarded clothing.

He resumed his position above her, their bare skin shifting across each other in electric currents. He leaned down and kissed her once more.

"I love you, Matthew," she said.

"I love you," he replied. And with that, they came together. Matthew suppressed a gasp from Mary with another kiss, passionate and deep. They moved as one being as she clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder and biting lightly at it. Matthew was blinded by passion, his breath hot against the crook of Mary's neck.

Soon enough, they drove each other toward oblivion, until finally Matthew collapsed against Mary in exhausted ecstasy. They lay almost motionless as he took the silence to listen to her breathing, his head resting against her chest. They adjusted themselves only slightly, and Mary brought her arms around him, cradling him against her.

After several minutes of silence, their breathing steadied.

"My God…" Mary said in a haggard whisper.

"What, darling?" Matthew said, not moving his head from her chest but nestling closer.

"To think…we could have been doing that for eight years."

They laughed. Reluctantly, Matthew moved his head to make eye contact with her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Well…if that's how you feel…We have a lot of lost time to make up for."

Before she could laugh, he had captured her lips in a kiss. Without breaking contact, they fumbled together until they were properly under the covers, deciding they were not quite so tired after all.

* * *

><p>AN: Hope you enjoyed! The blissful fluff period unfortunately will soon be over, time to get angsty folks :/


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